Strangers in Paradise
April 24-25, 2004 |
random trip report |
After a hard week, we seek a getaway, and search the web for state fairs, high school musicals and small-town festivals. We end up with Gold Nugget Days in Paradise, a small town up into the mountains from Chico, in which the largest gold nugget of the Gold Rush was putatively discovered.
We stay at Johnson's Country Inn,
a B&B a mile or so outside Chico.
Highly recommended.
The proprietor, David Johnson,
is the great-great-grandson of President Benjamin Harrison,
and we stay in the opulent Harrison Room.
Erica has a bubble-bath mishap.
The museum-quality 1860's bed in the Harrison Room
... and the vanity
The hammock was also very nice
We drive to Paradise, walk through the mandatory Crafts Faire, chat with a lonely petitioner opposed to genetically engineered crops and a wildlife photographer, and walk to the Gold Nugget Museum (farther than anticipated, on a busy road that traumatizes David).
We return in time for the somewhat scattershot Parade.
It concludes with a bunch of yahoos with shotguns
firing deafening fusillades of blanks,
evoking (in my mind) images of parades gone awry,
scattered bodies of spectators, etc.
Miss Gold Nugget, 2004. Limited flower budget.
Stage coach robbery
Sittin' on a park bench
If there were an 'S', it would be apostrophized
We drive back to the Gold Nugget Museum, consume the slightly repugnant Deep Pit Barbecue, are forced to listen to an under-talented band. The events (costume contest, gold panning, etc.) are disappointing, and we leave before the 'Whiskerino contest', which involves men who haven't shaved since the 'Whiskerino shaveoff' at last year's Gold Nugget Festival.
Under the village chestnut tree...
What's up with these chainsaw bears??
That evening we see a musical 'melodrama', the pride of Paradise, featuring dastardly villians, lily-white heroines, weak intonation, rhythmic dysfunctions, and totally lame writing and acting. We flee at intermission and enjoy dinner at Chico's Sicilian Cafe.
The next day (Sunday) we tour Chico,
which has a nicely-landscaped campus,
next to which is the impressive Bidwell Mansion
(John Bidwell was an early land baron,
who married the 4'8" Annie Kennedy,
who disapproved of drinking, dancin', and carryin' on.
He ran for president on the Prohibitionist ticket,
but lost to Grover Cleveland).
An archaeological find
The Bidwells' bed
... and their vanity
... and their grand piano (which was in quite good shape)
The Bidwell Mansion
Then we drive to Bidwell Park, which is drier and dustier than expected. Erica steps in some dog waste and does a Lady Macbeth.
Then we enjoy a leisurely drive down highway 99,
and are back in time for tea.
Some random oak trees in Bidwell Park